Into the Wild: Reimagined
by Willowdove
Summary: The cats of the clans are experiencing hardship like never before as many, particularly the kits, succumb to illness, and battles over territory claim the lives of the survivors. A prophecy has stated that fire will save them all. Will a flame-colored tom be able to bring the forest back from the brink of extinction? Or will his adopted clan be destroyed by a threat lurking within?
1. Allegiances and Prologue

_Author's Note: I've spent a long time working on a personal project reconstructing the ThunderClan family tree in a way that makes sense biologically. (The Erins weren't actually too knowledgable about cat genetics, and there were quite a few cats that quite simply could not have looked the way they looked.) And it occurred to me while constructing it that the Clan cats really should have an issue with inbreeding depression. The more I thought about it, the more a narrative started to emerge to me, particularly in regards to the tyranny of Brokenstar. His motivations and methods, while ruthless and cruel, make a lot more sense in the light of a sickly and steadily dwindling population. Moreover, Bluestar's decision to bring in Rusty makes a lot more sense if ThunderClan can't maintain its own kit population._

 _I was really torn whether or not I wanted to post this story since I don't want people to misinterpret my intention with the piece. When I say I'm rewriting Warriors, I don't want you to think I'm "fixing" it, or that my version is "better". I'm putting my own unique spin on the series, celebrating aspects of the books that endeared them to me, and expanding the universe in directions I find interesting. As with any adaptation, there are going to be things that I don't include that people will be upset that I dropped, things that I will add or change that people won't like. I just ask that if you do comment on these things, comment constructively. Otherwise, the original series still exists, and you are welcome to prefer it._

 _Author's Note 2: I have been told that posting the allegiances as a chapter alone is a violation of the community guidelines, since it does not itself constitute a narrative story. The idea by doing so was to mimic the structure in the actual text, but, never let it be said that I willfully break the rules. Therefore I'm combining this section with the Prologue. If this change is disconcerting to any returning readers I apologize._

 _Author's Note 3: I am endeavoring to be creative with this rewrite- I don't want to lift too many lines or passages directly. But sometimes, for the sake of maintaining the integrity of the story, things will have to sound incredibly similar or even exactly the same. Again, I am trying to avoid direct copying as much as I can. When it does happen, I am in no way claiming original intellectual property._

* * *

ALLEGIANCES: THUNDERCLAN

LEADER

Bluestar- blue-gray she-cat, tinged with silver around her muzzle, with a large scar cutting across one shoulder

DEPUTY

Redtail- small red tom. Littermate of Willowpelt. Brother of Patchpelt and Spottedleaf. Father of Dustpaw and Sandpaw

Apprentice, Dustpaw

MEDICINE CAT

Spottedleaf- beautiful dark tortoiseshell she-cat with a distinctive dappled coat. Sister to Willowpelt, Patchpelt and Redtail

WARRIORS (toms and she-cats without kits)

Lionheart- magnificent golden tabby tom with thick fur like a lion's mane. Son of Speckletail and Smallear. Littermate of Goldenflower. Mated to Frostfur

Apprentice, Greypaw

Tigerclaw- big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws. Mated to Goldenflower

Apprentice, Ravenpaw

Whitestorm- big white tom. Father of Graypaw. Mated to Willowpelt

Apprentice, Sandpaw

Darkstripe- sleek black-and-grey tabby tom. Son of Patchpelt. Littermate of Longtail

Longtail- pale tabby tom with dark black stripes. Son of Patchpelt. Littermate of Darkstripe

Runningwind- swift tabby tom. Son of One-eye and Halftail. Littermate of Mousefur. Mated to Brindleface

Willowpelt- very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes. Littermate of Redtail. Sister of Patchpelt and Spottedleaf. Mother of Graystripe. Mated to Whitestorm

Mousefur- small dusky brown she-cat. Daugther of One-eye and Half-tail. Littermate of Runningwind

APPRENTICES (more than 6 moons old, in training to become warriors)

Dustpaw- dusty tan tabby tom. Littermate of Sandpaw. Son of Redtail

Mentor, Redtail

Greypaw- long-haired mackerel tabby tom. Son of Willowpelt and Whitestorm

Mentor, Lionheart

Ravenpaw- small, skinny black tom with a tiny white dash on his chest and a white-tipped tail. Brother of Frostfur and Brindleface

Mentor, Tigerclaw

Sandpaw- pale ginger she-cat. Littermate of Dustpaw. Daughter of Redtail

Mentor, Whitestorm

Firepaw- handsome ginger tom

QUEENS (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)

Frostfur- beautiful white she-cat with blue eyes. Littermate of Brindleface. Mated to Lionheart

Brindleface- pretty tabby with white spots. Littermate of Frostfur. Mated to Runningwind

Goldenflower- pale ginger she-cat. Daughter of Speckletail and Smallear. Littermate of Lionheart. Mated to Tigerclaw

Speckletail- pale tabby, and the oldest nursery queen. Sister of Halftail. Mother of Goldenflower and Lionheart. Mated to Smallear

ELDERS

Halftail- big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing. Brother of Speckletail. Father of Runningwind and Mousefur. Mated to One-eye

Smallear- white tom with very small ears. Oldest tom in ThunderClan. Father of Goldenflower and Lionheart. Mated to Speckletail

Patchpelt- small black-and-white tom. Brother of Willowpelt, Redtail and Spottedleaf. Father of Longtail and Darkstripe

One-eye- pale grey she-cat. Oldest cat in ThunderClan. Virtually blind and deaf. Mother of Runningwind and Mousefur. Mated to Halftail

Dappletail- once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with a lovely dappled coat

* * *

PROLOGUE

Spottedleaf approached the High Rock with trepidation. Inside, her leader was resting, waiting for news of the sick clan members. She was not going to like the message that needed to be delivered.

A soft grumble issued from behind the ivy curtain. Rustling noises indicated the leader rising to her paws and stretching. "I can smell you loitering out there, Spottedleaf," Bluestar called. There was a tired acceptance to her voice. "Come on in and be done with it."

Spottedleaf sighed, shouldering her way into the leader's den. She sat slowly, curling her tail over her paws for comfort.

"How are the kits, Spottedleaf?" Bluestar asked. Her voice was direct, but the way she addressed the medicine cat was soft. Spottedleaf blinked her eyes closed, bowing her head to her chest.

"I lost them," she replied quietly.

Bluestar turned her head away, her jaw tightening. "You did your best," she murmured. Spottedleaf's tail twitched.

"Perhaps if Poppyfur was still here…" she said, her voice cracking.

Bluestar drew herself up indignantly, cutting across before Spottedleaf could finish. "Poppyfur trained you well," she dismissed, her tone broaching no argument, "We all have faith in your skills, Spottedleaf. You should too."

The medicine cat could not maintain eye contact with her leader's burning gaze, so she looked down at her paws, ears lying flat against her head. "It's just… this is the fifth litter I've lost kits from. I am still so young compared to the other medicine cats. Perhaps I don't have enough experience yet."

Bluestar licked the tabby tortoiseshell's shoulder. "It's no cat's fault," she asserted, "Times are difficult. Has StarClan spoken with you?"

Spottedleaf shook her head. "Not in many moons."

Bluestar closed her eyes, sighing deeply. "…Perhaps it is time we journey to Mothermouth. Come. You can gather the supplies while I see to Brindleface. She will need comfort."

Spottedleaf blinked as she followed through the curtains, then went rigid as she took in the night sky. A comet streaked from one end of the horizon to the next. Bluestar sat down beside her and waited patiently for the glazed expression to pass from Spottedleaf's face.

"What did you see?" Bluestar asked.

"Fire," she answered, slowly, "The forest, all around, engulfed in flames. But no-cat was harmed. We were safe within it, bolstered by it."

Bluestar unsheathed and resheathed her claws, creating small tracks in the dirt as she pondered this. "How can that be true?" she asked finally, "All cats fear fire."

"I do not know," Spottedleaf said, "This is the vision StarClan has chosen to share with me."

Bluestar turned over the information in her mind. "Your prophecies have never been wrong before," she mused, "If this is the word of StarClan, it must be so. Fire will save the clan."


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Rusty's jaws opened in a huge yawn, his tongue curling behind his sharp, pointed white teeth. Gradually the rich scents of the forest from his dream faded into the dull, sterile odor of his home. In the other room he could hear the humans rattling food into his bowl. He stretched his front paws out in front of him, sheathing and unsheathing his claws before bringing them to back his face so he could rasp his tongue over his paw-pads.

The humans cooed to summon him and Rusty pulled himself reluctantly to his feet, jumping down from his spot on the couch with a jingle. He padded into the kitchen where they were waiting for him. He weaved himself through the shorter one's legs to get to the food bowl and she laughed delightedly, reaching down to stroke his soft ginger fur. Her high-pitched babbling continued as he tucked in. The pellets were dry and overly crunchy, having to be worked at with the molars at the back of his mouth, but they were filling enough. The she-human patted him a final time and moved off with the other toward the stairs. They looked back at him expectantly. If he followed them now, he would be able to curl up in the bend of a knee and doze off again amidst the warm blankets of their bed. But the dream he had still tickled at the back of his mind, and he felt restless. So instead, he pushed through the cat-flap at the back door into the garden.

A chill breeze ruffled his fur as he stepped outside. Rusty welcomed it, shaking out the last bit of drowsiness from his fur. Bunching up his muscles, he leaped up onto the fence separating him from the outside world.

A meow from his left startled him. "Good evening, Rusty," said a small black-and-white cat from a fencepost a couple tail-lengths away.

"Smudge!" Rusty replied, "How are you?"

"I'm good. Still haven't managed to catch that stupid red dot, though."

An amused purr started in Rusty's chest. "It can't be that hard, can it?"

Smudge's ear twitched and he bent to lick the fur on his chest. "Yeah, well. It's not like you've ever caught anything either. Are you still having those dreams?"

Rusty closed his eyes, willing back the vivid clearing with a mouse skittering through the undergrowth. Its mouth-watering, warm, musky aroma was on the breeze. He could hear its tiny, rapid heartbeat deep within the fur of his ear.

"Did you catch it this time?" Smudge asked.

Rusty blinked, coming back to himself. "No," he admitted, shaking his head hard to clear it. He cast his eyes out into the trees, feeling wistful.

Smudge slitted his eyes at him. "Oh no you don't. I know that look. You want to go out there."

"Only just for a nose around…" Rusty argued guiltily.

"I tell you this every time- you know what Henry said about the forest!" Smudge exclaimed.

Rusty scratched at the post beneath his front paws, grumbling. "Henry is fat and lazy, and just wants to ruin our fun," he dismissed.

Smudge wavered for a second, but shook his head. "He talked about the forest _before_ he stopped being fun."

A strong breeze from the forest blew into Rusty's face, making his eyes water. Although it was faint, he caught a whiff of familiar odor. It was warm and musky. An electric thrill ran through him all the way down to his tail.

Opening his jaws so that the scent could hit the roof of his mouth, Rusty moved his nose around, trying to pinpoint the source. He paced the fence, his neck arched outward. It wasn't far off. Going after it wouldn't take long. And even if Henry was right about there being cats in the forest, they weren't likely to miss one mouse, were they?

Without consciously deciding to, Rusty felt himself hop down to the other side of the fence. The dirt was moist and welcoming between his pawpads. It felt _right_ to be there.

"Hey!" Smudge hissed from his fencepost in horror. "What are you doing?"

"I'll be right back," Rusty meowed, his eyes bright and tail held high as he glanced back at his friend. Smudge sputtered, but Rusty ignored him as he jogged off into the trees.

He followed the scent carefully, reveling in the silence of his pawsteps as he crept through the undergrowth. Finally, he pinpointed the mouse's position. He could just hear the tiny heartbeat over the thundering of his own. Licking his lips, he crouched, anticipating its hot blood spurting between his strong teeth.

A rustling behind him brought him out of his reverie. Too late, the wind shifted, bringing with it the scent of cat, and the rustling turned into loud, thundering pawsteps barreling right at him.

With a loud yowl another cat pounced onto his back, its claws pricking sharply into his skin. The mouse skittered away in terror. Rusty thrashed backwards, trying to throw his attacker. The other cat was heavy and held on stubbornly, bringing his teeth to bear on Rusty's throat. Adrenaline spiked through his system, but he instead of feeling fearful, he felt exhilarated. He sensed that the other cat was stronger, so the only way he was going get out of this was to throw the other cat off-balance. Thinking quickly, he pressed himself to the ground and made his muscles relax. The other cat yowled triumphantly, thinking that he had submitted. It loosened its grip. At that moment, with all his strength, Rusty burst upwards.

The other cat landed with a hard thud behind him, knocking the air out of its lungs. Rusty whirled around to face it, bristling, teeth bared. His attacker was a long-haired grey tomcat, slightly larger than he was, though certainly not much older. The cat sat up and smiled at him good-naturedly, still wheezing a little.

"Wow, you really got me," he said conversationally. Rusty blinked, his hissing faltering. He wasn't sure what to make of the cat's sudden change in attitude, but he was wary to let his guard down too soon, and his blood was still thrilling for a fight.

"Name's Greypaw. I'm an apprentice from ThunderClan. You fight pretty well for a kitty-pet," he continued. Rusty hesitantly forced his spine unbend.

"Are you… a forest cat?" he asked.

"Yep!" Greypaw replied proudly.

"You don't… you don't eat cat bones, do you? Or file your claws on them, or anything?" Rusty asked. Greypaw puffed up, offended, and he hastily withdrew the question. "I didn't really believe it, but my friend Henry told us all that there were big, mean cats in the forest that killed cats and ate their bones."

"No Clan cat would do something that horrible!" Greypaw denied angrily.

"Well, it did seem like you might kill me for a second there…" Rusty pointed out, "You bit my neck."

Greypaw looked at him reproachfully. "It was only a warning bite!" he said, "You're hunting in our territory. I have to scare you off."

Suddenly he stood up in alarm, his open mouth and flaring nostrils indicating he had caught wind of danger. "The rest of the hunting patrol," he hissed, "Go, you have to run!"

Rusty scrambled to his feet, but he didn't have enough time before two cats walked into the clearing. Unlike Greypaw, these were adult cats, and they were lean and muscular from their hard lives in the forest. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness, Rusty puffed up his fur.

They advanced on him and the blue-gray she-cat addressed him. "Easy now, kitty-pet," she mewed reassuringly, "We won't hurt you. I am Bluestar, leader of ThunderClan."

Rusty glanced back and forth between the two new cats, then at Graypaw. The tom shook his head slightly, his large yellow eyes wide with anxiety. "You both keep calling me kitty-pet," Rusty said slowly, turning his gaze back on the she-cat, "What does that mean?"

"It means you live with the Two-legs," Greypaw answered automatically. He stiffened sheepishly as he realized he had cut across his leader, but she did not acknowledge if it bothered her.

Rusty cocked his head at the additional foreign word. "Do you mean the humans?"

"The furless creatures that stand on their hind legs," Bluestar supplied. Rusty nodded. She continued, "You did well to fight off a Clan cat like you did. Greypaw is bigger and stronger than you, but you were able to outmaneuver him."

"Thanks," Rusty mewed, surprised.

The large golden tabby strode between him and Bluestar, addressing Greypaw. "You were very brave to defend our territory even without much warrior training. And had you continued fighting, I know you would have won." Greypaw dipped his head in acquiescence, but his puffed chest betrayed that he was pleased by the praise.

Rusty sat down, thinking that by Lionheart's bodily exclusion, he had been dismissed. But Bluestar walked around her companion to once again stand facing Rusty. He scrambled to his paws. "You also showed good instincts with that hunter's crouch," Bluestar continued, "Had Greypaw not interrupted, you would have caught that mouse."

Confusion creased the golden tabby's brow as he whirled about to look at his leader. "Bluestar…" he began, clearly seeking permission to speak. She nodded at him. "This kitty-pet is an intruder. We should be sending him on his way."

Rusty exchanged another glance with Greypaw, who only shrugged helplessly. Bluestar waved her tail and padded closer to Rusty. He straightened his posture, trying to look as intimidating as possible under her careful scrutiny. "I have a proposition for you, kitty-pet."

"Rusty," he corrected.

"Rusty, then. How would you like to join ThunderClan?" Bluestar offered.

Greypaw and the other cat gasped. "Would you not agree that he shows potential, Lionheart?" Bluestar asked the tabby. He shifted his large paws awkwardly.

"He would make a good apprentice," he agreed haltingly, "But he isn't Clan."

Bluestar brushed that off. "You know this leaf-bare was a harsh one, and we have lost many litters of potential warriors. Recent years have been hard on our numbers. We need more claws to defend our territory, and to keep our clan safe and fed."

"But to bring in an outsider-" Lionheart objected, "The other clans would never-"

"I believe StarClan brought him into our woods for a reason," Bluestar said firmly. She gazed down at Rusty with kindness. "I know this is a lot to ask. With the Two-legs you won't get hungry, or sick, and it's much safer. We have to fight to protect each other here. It's not an easy life. But you'd find it's very rewarding. You get to hunt, to eat fresh-kill, and have the companionship and loyalty of the clan. And you would get to stay a tom."

"I'm not sure I- wait- what do you mean, 'stay a tom'?" Rusty asked with bewilderment.

"The Two-legs will bring you to The Cutter," Greypaw interjected again. Rusty just stared at him.

Lionheart chuckled in amusement. "Have you met any cats that came back from a trip with wounds on their belly? Who became inexplicably lazy and fat, and no longer had the same interests they had before?"

Rusty gasped, "Henry!" He was never the same after they took him to the vet. Rusty looked at Lionheart in horror. "What do you mean he's not a tom anymore?"

"He can no longer have kits," Bluestar answered smoothly. She tapped his shoulder with her tail-tip. "You don't have to give us your answer now. I'll give you until tomorrow to decide."

"Lionheart mentioned other clans?" Rusty interjected.

The tabby swung his massive head to look at Rusty directly. "Yes. There are four warrior clans in the forest. ThunderClan occupies the territory between the Tallpines and the river, and we must fight for it, tooth and claw, against intruders who want to steal our territory and take our prey. Could you do such a thing? Could you swear your loyalty to cats who aren't your blood, and fight to defend them to the last drop of your own?"

Bluestar made no effort to soften Lionheart's speech. She blinked gently at Rusty. "My patrol will stop by this clearing at moon-high. If you do not come, we will assume your answer was no. Think on it hard, Rusty. I will not make this offer again." At her signal, Greypaw and Lionheart stood, and the three cats vanished beyond edge of the clearing.

Rusty remained, his head reeling. Without all the distractions, he suddenly realized that he had seen the clearing he was in before. It was the one from his dream.

He got up to leave, feeling dazed. The wind picked up and buffeted his fur, sending whispers through the trees. As he finally jumped up onto his fence, there was an indescribable tug in his gut. He turned once more to look out into the forest. It called his name.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Rusty awoke early the next morning, feeling restless with excitement. The young sparrows were chirping outside the window, attesting to a grand new dawn full of opportunity. They would be testing out their wings within not too much time. Rusty's stomach grumbled as he imagined interrupting their short practice flights. But before he did that, he wanted to make sure he talked to Smudge.

He didn't even take a moment to stretch in the sunbeam that splashed enticingly across the kitchen floor as he made his way out into the yard. The fresh, earth-scented air was cool, and the grass was still damp and heavy with dew. Rusty jumped onto Smudge's fence. His friend was not yet in his garden. Rusty tried to sit still and wait for his friend to emerge, but anticipation was making his pawpads itch, and he found himself getting up to wriggle around.

"Smudge!" Rusty called, doing his best to stay quiet and not disturb the sleeping humans. "Smuuuudddge!"

After a few moments, when it became clear the black-and-white cat was not going to appear, Rusty hopped down into the garden and strode over to the door. "Smudge!" he called again, clawing at the wood to the side of the catflap. "SMUDGE!" he yowled.

Bleary-eyed, his friend stumbled out the catflap, bowling Rusty over as he did so. Rusty got right back up, his tail quivering.

"This better be important," Smudge grumbled crossly, his ears tilted low to the sides. He yawned hugely, then fell into a sitting position, wrapping his tail around his paws.

"I'm going to live in the forest. I wanted to say goodbye before I left," Rusty said.

Smudge nodded absently. "Oh, okay... Bye Rusty, have fun…" he mewed, his eyes closing and his head nodding to the side. Rusty started to open his mouth. "…Wait a minute!" Smudge exclaimed, swaying as he tried to jerk himself upright, "You're… you can't go- the forest!"

Rusty stood tall with pride, his green eyes shining. "I met wild cats last night, Smudge. They invited me to join their clan. I'm going to do it," he announced.

"The wild cats! You MET them?" Smudge shrieked.

"Yeah-" Rusty started.

"Why didn't they rip you to shreds?!" Smudge demanded.

Rusty shook his head. "Well… Greypaw started to fight me, but then he stopped, and- I guess they need more claws, or something? I don't really know," he said. He waved his tail sweepingly, continuing, "But think of it Smudge! The forest! I'll be living and hunting free in the wild. Wouldn't you want to go if you had the chance?"

Smudge looked at him askance. "No," he answered flatly, "I really wouldn't. I have plenty of food and water here. Its always nice and warm in the house. Besides," he continued, "Can you trust these cats? It sounds like a trap."

Rusty blinked. "How would it be a trap?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know…" Smudge began rolling his eyes skyward, "They probably want to get you surrounded so they can kill you AND EAT YOUR BONES?"

Laughter rumbled up from Rusty's chest. "There were three of them before, they could have done that in the first place," he pointed out. "You should come with me!" he added, "Two sets of claws is better than one. I've been thinking about it all night, and I'm sure-"

"No. I don't want to go, Rusty," Smudge rejected, padding backwards a couple steps. Rusty gave his ear a reassuring lick, but he had known that he would not be able to convince Smudge to come with him. Smudge had never understood Rusty's longing to be out in the forest. He didn't feel the same inescapable pull.

"…I don't want to leave you behind," Rusty lamented.

Smudge bumped his shoulder against Rusty's. "You shouldn't go." The black-and-white cat's eyes met his with equal resignation.

"I'll miss you," Rusty mewed.

Smudge sighed and nuzzled Rusty's cheek. "I'll miss you too." The two of them stayed together in the garden as the sun steadily climbed in the sky, reminiscing on old stories and wrestling playfully. Once the warm rays were close to directly overhead, Rusty bounced onto his paws, anticipation distracting him too much to let him focus on saying his goodbyes. Smudge chased him to the fence with affectionate understanding. After turning to bury his nose into his friend's side one last time, Rusty bounded off into the trees.

He followed his own scent trail from the night before, weaving his way through the undergrowth to arrive at the clearing where he had met the wild cats. Each moment that passed by had him nearly bursting out of his fur. When the sun's warm rays were finally directly overhead, he caught the scent of two cats moving toward him on the breeze.

Lionheart was the first of these cats, striding with the sureness of contained strength. The other was a white tom that Rusty didn't recognize. Next to Lionheart he was small, but any cat would be small next to Lionheart. He was still of a sturdy, athletic build. Rusty's front paws danced as both moved to greet him.

"I did not think you would come," Lionheart said to Rusty. He flicked his tail towards his companion, adding, "This is Whitestorm, one of our senior warriors. We will be taking you back to camp."

Whitestorm bent his head towards Rusty. When Rusty only stared at the gesture awkwardly, Whitestorm let out an amused purr and moved his face the rest of the way in order to touch their noses together.

"Glad to meet you, young one," he said, drawing his face away. Wasting no time, Lionheart signaled with his tail and leaped off into the trees. Whitestorm dipped his head in acknowledgement to Rusty one more time and leapt afterwards. Rusty scrambled to follow.

The two warriors kept a hard, steady pace, and Rusty had to run to keep up with their longer strides. As a house cat he wasn't particularly practiced at picking his footing, so he tripped noisily over many twigs, stones and branches littered across the forest floor. He didn't let it stop him, though; determination burned like a fire in his belly. Each time he fell, he got back up, and bolted forward to catch up with the older cats.

When they finally stopped he was gasping for breath, his legs shaking underneath him. Lionheart touched his tail tip to Rusty's shoulder in sympathy. "You did well keeping up with us," he said.

Rusty nodded, taking in his surroundings. They were standing on a rocky incline overlooking a thick wall of trees and woven gorse. He didn't see any way to get through it, but he could smell endless comings and goings of cats in the area. "We must be close to your camp," Rusty mewed.

Whitestorm purred and moved nimbly down the slope so that Rusty followed him. The slender tunnel through the gorse wasn't even visible until Whitestorm slipped inside.

Inside Rusty was met with the wonderful cacophony of lazy conversations being held in the midday sun. Most cats were sitting in pairs on the packed dirt, but some were in small groups grooming each other. Conversations began to cut off as the cats scented Rusty and swiveled to gawk at him. Rusty recognized Greypaw sitting a couple of tail-lengths away from a pile of caught prey, tolerantly sitting through a thorough washing by an older, pale grey she-cat. When he turned and saw Rusty, he swatted her away and bounded over to greet him.

"Hi Rusty!" Greypaw said, sticking his nose forward. Rusty stuck his own out a little too quickly and he bumped part of his nose painfully against the side of Greypaw's.

"Oops, sorry," Rusty apologized sheepishly, continuing, "Nice to see you again."

Greypaw squinched up his nose a couple times to shake the impact. "No worries! Welcome to Thunderclan. I'm so glad you actually came!" he purred eagerly, his tail held high in the air.

Movement from the corner of his eye caused Rusty to turn and he saw Bluestar leaping gracefully up onto a tall boulder situated in the middle of the camp.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, join here beneath the High Rock for a Clan meeting!" she called.

A couple of she-cats emerged from a patch of knotted brambles and more peeled off from the shadows on the edges of camp to crowd in towards the High Rock. Whitestorm sat next to Rusty's side, pressing his taller leg into Rusty's shoulder. The breath whooshed out of Rusty's lungs as he awaited what she would say.

"ThunderClan has suffered many tragedies," she began, her voice strong and clear, "We've had only four kits survive to their apprenticeship this new-leaf. Our numbers are lower than ever before." Murmurings started among the crowd, but Bluesatar ignored them as she continued to speak. "You may have noticed the new cat in our camp. Greypaw met this tom in the forest yesterday, and he showed real promise in his untrained hunting and fighting abilities. ThunderClan is going to take him in as an apprentice."

Caterwauling erupted from the cats, but Bluestar silenced them with a yowl. "Lionheart," she called. A surprised silence descended as the audience's eyes swung toward the tabby. "You witnessed his fight with Greypaw. Will you vouch for him?"

A couple cats glanced curiously at Greypaw, and he shrugged at them sheepishly. Lionheart looked over at Rusty and tilted his head in neutral appraisal. "He is quick and adaptable. Properly trained, he would make a fine fighter," he assessed.

Bluestar nodded and turned her gaze on the white warrior. "And Whitestorm," she addressed, "You led him to camp. Will you vouch for him?"

Whitestorm met her gaze unblinkingly. "He doesn't have the speed or endurance of a ThunderClan-born apprentice, but he does have tenacity. I will vouch for him."

"And I, Bluestar, vouch for this cat," she announced, "He shows intelligence and bravery, worthy qualities for a young apprentice. It is decided!" She gestured sweepingly with her tail. "From today forward, this tom will be known as Firepaw."

"Firepaw!" Greypaw and Whitestorm repeated beside him.

"Firepaw. …Firepaw! …Firepaw," came a weak, stilted chorus from among the cats in attendance. It was clear that most felt uncertain or uneasy with the stranger being accepted into their midst. But for the moment, it seemed the decision would hold. Bluestar jumped down from the High Rock to conclude the meeting. Cats began to disperse.

Whitestorm gave Firepaw a hearty nudge and moved off, leaving Greypaw bouncing beside him. "That's a great name! Firepaw! Do you like it?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so- I just, I didn't know she'd do that," Firepaw mewed uncertainly.

"Your name changes when you become an apprentice," Grey said dismissively, "I guess she could have called you Rustypaw, though. That might have been easier, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess. But I can get used to it," Firepaw replied. Just then, a light grey cat with strikingly dark tabby stripes walked up to him, sneering.

"Bluestar might like you, but I don't have to," he hissed, "Where'd she even dig you up from anyway? You don't smell like a Clan cat." The cat sniffed and looked him over scathingly. "You're too well-fed to be a rogue. You must be a kittypet!" he concluded, lifting his chin in distaste.

Firepaw bristled. "I'm a Clan cat now," he answered.

"Everyone knows kittypets are too soft to be warriors! The forest will eat you alive in a month, if the other Clans don't get to you first. And then you'll go crawling back on your belly to your stupid Two-legs for more of their disgusting slop! Bluestar is wasting her time on you," Longtail jeered.

"Leave him alone, Longtail," Greypaw said defensively.

Longtail ignored him. "ThunderClan weakens itself by bringing in a _kittypet_. The youngest kit in the nursery could beat a _kittypet_ with its _eyes_ closed," he continued. Firepaw's eyes narrowed to slits. "What? Did you think you'd have a fun little adventure out here? Think we'd all be clamoring for a hero because Bluestar told you we needed extra claws? Hate to break it to you, but your paws are too soft to be of use to anyone."

With a strangled growl Firepaw unsheathed his claws and flew at him. Caught off guard, Longtail fell backwards and they tumbled into a hissing and spitting whirl of claws and teeth. Firepaw managed to grab the tip of Longtail's ear in his jaws and he yanked hard, tearing the cartilage in a deep V. Longtail yowled in pain, and bowled Firepaw to the ground. Before Firepaw could regain his feet he was pinned in place by Longtail's strong front legs. He yowled triumphantly and Firepaw snarled, his tail lashing against the hard dirt.

"Let him up," said another cat. Firepaw craned his neck back, expecting a friendly face. But the whiskers on the black tabby were twitching with undisguised revulsion. "He's not worth it."

Longtail gave Firepaw's shoulder a last spiteful bite before he hauled off. Firepaw jumped to his feet, spitting a glob of blood from his mouth onto the ground and hissing.

"That's Darkstripe," Greypaw supplied, "He's Longtail's brother." Longtail gave Firepaw a hateful glare before he wordlessly turned his tail and stalked away. The dark cat followed, not looking back. "I think they're going to the medicine den," Greypaw suggested, "Yep, definitely going to see Spottedleaf. I can't believe you jumped on him like that! Longtail's a full warrior! But whoa, he's not gonna forget about this soon. You ruined his good looks."

Firepaw felt a surge of satisfaction at those words as he watched the offending cat limp away. It soothed the furious bitter ache he felt at having been knocked to the dirt. At least he had claimed a small victory. He licked down his ruffled chest fur.

Suddenly a yowl came from across the clearing. Greypaw sat up, alert, his ears quivering. Firepaw glanced around to see the same tenseness gripping every cat. He felt himself sit a little straighter too. Then, through the gorse tunnel, a slender black tom streaked into camp, straight up to the top of the High Rock.

"Redtail!" he howled in anguish. "Red- Redtail-" he choked. All the hairs on his tail were bristling straight out. His eyes were wild. "Redtail is-!" the tom tried to say. His eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out, slithering backwards down the rock. Everyone jumped back to give him room as a dappled tortoiseshell cat raced from across the clearing to nose the fallen cat in the side. Firepaw figured she was probably the medicine cat.

All eyes turned as another cat shouldered his way in through the gorse tunnel. Gasps of horrified shock and pain radiated outward as they caught sight of the figure hanging limply from the jaws of the huge, muscular brown tabby.

He brought the body to the middle of the clearing and gently laid it down. When he brought up his massive head, he yowled, "Redtail is dead!"

* * *

 _Author's Note: I know some things are a little subtle, so if anyone's interested, here's a catalogue of changes I tried to make with this chapter- Rusty is TOO EXCITED and gets up early, Rusty is a good bean and seeks out his friend to say goodbye instead of incidentally running into him, Rusty is again super eager and goes to the meeting place early, Also his nose works just fine cause why wouldn't he be able to smell cats in his vicinity, Rusty is confused by/foreign to some cultural practices (the nose touch, name change), Lionheart and Whitestorm actually vouch for Rusty themselves instead of Bluestar just saying they did, The collar thing that was super obvious is gone (guess he's just microchipped), Firepaw DOESN'T win a fight with an actual trained warrior, Set up for Greypaw having a relationship with his mother, Longtail and Darkstripe are brothers, Tigerclaw reveals Redtail is dead so he has COMPLETE control over that story even more than he already did_

 _I'll break it down a little bit. Over-eagerness is going to be more of a character flaw for Firepaw. He's going to be a more flawed character in general, not immediately good at everything. He's going to face a real learning curve coming into a totally new culture. Outside of Firepaw, family in general is going to be much more apparent and important in this version._


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

A keening wail rose from the grey she-cat who had been grooming Greypaw. She shouldered her way up to the center of the clearing to stop disbelieving in front of the lifeless red tom. Whitestorm followed her, his ears low, and wound his tail through hers. She pushed her face into his white chest, shoulders shaking. Two smaller cats also forced their way in, one a brownish tan color and the other a pale ginger. The tan one crouched beside the body, overwhelmed by grief, while the ginger burrowed her nose in Redtail's fur.

"Redtail is my mother's littermate," Greypaw murmured, "Dustpaw and Sandpaw are his kits."

The tabby that had carried Redtail's body walked to the bottom of the High Rock, his powerful muscles rippling under a myriad of old and new wounds. He lifted his head, a trickle of blood dripping from a fresh slash across an old, broad scar on his snout. "Cats of ThunderClan!" he called. An unnatural hush fell over the clearing and every cat awaited his word. His chest swelled under their gaze. "Our patrol was set upon by RiverClan at the Sunningrocks. We were outnumbered. Redtail fought with honor, but the deputy Oakheart pounced on him from behind. Be assured, he received justice swiftly, at my claws."

Bluestar walked forward. The tips of her ears barely came up to the tabby's massive shoulder, but the noble confidence with which she held herself caused all eyes to shift to her. "Oakheart killed Redtail?" she repeated.

The tabby nodded. "RiverClan has taken much from us this day," he said lowly.

Bluestar bowed her head, grief rolling off of her in a silent wave. "Then, we… thank you, Tigerclaw, for avenging him," she meowed. Tigerclaw moved aside as she padded up to the body of Redtail. She, like the cats of his family, quietly bent to lick his fur.

"What are they doing?" Firepaw asked Greypaw.

Greypaw regarded them sadly. "Sharing tongues, before he goes to join StarClan," he explained. This did nothing to help Firepaw understand.

More cats started to move in, but they did not stay for longer than a moment before rotating with the cat behind them. Greypaw stood.

"Wait. Am I supposed to-?" Firepaw asked, scrambling to follow. Greypaw halted him with a flick of his tail.

"No, you didn't know Redtail. Stay for a moment, I'll be back," he said. Firepaw eased back onto his haunches. He couldn't help feeling a little guilty for not participating, but mostly, he was relieved to be staying put. Greypaw gave the body of Redtail a few respectful licks, then nuzzled his head under his mother's chin. She blinked at him, but otherwise remained somberly reposed.

"They'll stand vigil with him until the morning," Greypaw informed, returning to Firepaw's side. The ginger tom looked up, taking note that while the sun was low in the sky, it wouldn't be dark for a while yet. "Come on, I'll show you around camp."

Firepaw followed as Greypaw walked in a loop around the clearing, pointing things out with his tail. "That really wide bush over there makes the warrior's den. Behind all those brambles is the nursery. Past the medicine den, in that fallen log, is where the elders live."

The two apprentices approached together. The grass around the elder's den was bright and lush, still holding some moisture from the morning dew. Firepaw sniffed curiously and caught the scent of mouse wafting from inside. "Dustpaw and Sandpaw must have brought the elders their catch before… before everything happened," Greypaw supposed. They stepped through a hole in the bark.

Patches of moss were scraped together in piles, some of which cats were occupying like beds. Greypaw dipped his head respectfully in greeting, and Firepaw quickly copied.

"Willowpelt's son," meowed one of the toms affectionately. "You brought the newcomer to meet us."

Another elder harrumphed, not bothering to turn around and face them. "You'll have to excuse Rosetail," the tom apologized, "She's forgotten her manners. I'm Smallear." He indicated a brown tom a stump tail, then a grizzled she-cat with a cloudy eye, and a graying tortoiseshell queen, introducing, "This is Halftail, One-eye and Dappletail."

"Hello, Firepaw," they greeted. Halftail continued, "You're only missing Patchpelt right now. He went to sit vigil with Redtail. It's a hard thing to outlive a brother, especially one much younger than you are."

The other elders nodded in agreement. "Redtail would have made a fine leader someday. Bluestar will be reluctant to name a new deputy tonight," Smallear added sadly.

One-eye reminisced, "I remember when Bluestar was made deputy."

Dappletail tilted her head to the side. "It was just after she lost her kits," she said, "Such a shame."

"They were the healthiest litter in moons," One-eye agreed, "But perhaps that's why we lost them. Their strong little voices must have led the fox to the nursery."

"Who do you think she'll chose as the next deputy?" Halftail meowed.

Rosetail flicked her tail irritably, grumbling at the wall, "As long as she does it before moonhigh. It wouldn't do for her to break _all_ the clan traditions in one day."

Smallear gave Firepaw an apologetic glance. "There are some obvious candidates," he submitted. Firepaw's gaze wandered back into the clearing as the elders continued to speculate. He saw Tigerclaw's ears swivel at the mention of his name. The massive tabby coolly began to wash his paws.

As if on cue, Bluestar jumped up onto the High Rock. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey, join here beneath the High Rock for a Clan meeting!" she called. Firepaw turned out into the clearing, with Greypaw and the elders filtered close behind. He tried not to let it bother him when Rosetail positioned herself as far away as possible.

"A new deputy must be appointed," she announced, "But first, let us give thanks to StarClan for the life of Redtail. Tonight he sits with his fellow warriors among the stars." An approving murmur spread through the crowd.

Bluestar continued, "Since Redtail was also responsible for Dustpaw's training, I will need to appoint him a new mentor. Dustpaw, Darkstripe, step forward."

The two cats emerged from the crowd to join her beneath the High Rock. "Darkstripe, you are ready for your first apprentice. You had a fine mentor in Tigerclaw, and I expect you to pass on the skills that you have learned to Dustpaw."

Darkstripe looked down at his new charge with apparent enthusiasm, but Dustpaw's eyes were dull when he dutifully stretched his neck forward to touch his nose to his new mentor's.

"And now I shall name ThunderClan's new deputy," Bluestar continued, "I say these words before the body of Redtail, so that his spirit may hear and approve my choice."

Firepaw glanced curiously at Tigerclaw. He was staring up at the High Rock with hunger in his amber eyes. "Lionheart," Bluestar meowed, "will be the new deputy of ThunderClan."

"Lionheart! Lionheart!" the crowd chorused. The golden tabby strode proudly to the bottom of the High Rock, lifting his chin towards his leader so she could bend down and touch noses with him. Firepaw looked again at Tigerclaw, whose expression had shifted into level indifference. If he was disappointed, it didn't show.

Bluestar jumped down from the High Rock and cats began to throng forward to congratulate the new deputy. Greypaw flicked his tail across Firepaw's shoulders as Tigerclaw gave the golden tabby a nudge so powerful that it knocked him off balance. "How about I show you where we sleep, yeah?" he suggested. Firepaw had to tear his gaze away from the hearty show of affection being showered on Lionheart by his clanmates. He couldn't help thinking back to his own half-hearted reception not too much earlier. Was this the kind of loyalty and warmth he could look forward to in the future?

Greypaw trotted over to a sunbleached stump at the edge of the clearing and indicated a thick cluster of woven ferns just to the side of it. Firepaw followed him inside to find more clumps of dry moss like the ones serving as beds in the elder's den, one of which distinctly carried the scent of Greypaw. "The den's pretty empty now compared to how many apprentices we used to have. So you have your pick," he meowed. A few other beds appeared to be claimed, though Firepaw was not yet familiar with the owners of each cat-scent. He stepped into the one to Greypaw's right. The only scents clinging to that moss were old and faded.

"I think I'll take this one. And then, I want to try and meet the rest of the clan," Firepaw said.

Greypaw wiggled excitedly at his side. "Sure thing," he agreed, "You're really going to like it here, you'll see."


	5. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: I bet you all thought I abandoned this! Haha, I suppose I nearly did. I've had this chapter half-written forever, oscillating between wanting to be completely original and using material from the book. Ultimately I have directly lifted quite a lot for this section, particularly towards the end. There are a lot of subtle differences in characterization, though, and some overt scene changes that I hope set it apart enough. This chapter in the original does such a great job of establishing the world and characters that I had a hard time trying to reinvent the wheel._

 _Also, I absolutely love writing Lionheart. He is not quite the same here as he is in the book, but I find it interesting to have him be entirely meritocratic in his judgements and interactions with others. He's stern but fair, and this makes him a great teacher. You can bet he has some words with Tigerclaw after the apprentices leave._

* * *

CHAPTER 4

Firepaw rose early the next morning, his belly grumbling. The night before he had taken his first wild meal from the fresh kill pile. Saliva pooled in his jaws as he thought of the intense savory flavor. His old food wasn't even comparable.

He tried not to linger too long over his choices before he picked up a bird and brought it to the tree stump in front of the apprentice's den where Ravenpaw was lying, staring unblinkingly at a rabbit between his front paws.

"Good morning!" Firepaw greeted cheerily.

Ravenpaw flinched slightly but looked up at the greeting. "Ah. Hi, Firepaw. Sorry I didn't meet you sooner, I was…" He trailed off, pushing the rabbit back and forth in the dirt.

Firepaw waited a moment to let the other cat finish his thought. But as the pause stretched out it seemed that Ravenpaw had entirely forgotten he was even speaking. Trying not to feel ignored, Firepaw hunched over to take a bite of his bird. The gamey flavor was so intense that it made his nose start to run. "Must be amazing to get up every day knowing you might get to hunt these," he said conversationally. With an absent flick of his tail, Ravenpaw acknowledged the comment and let it pass by unanswered. Cats were beginning to move around camp, grabbing breakfast, stopping to talk to one another, and finding spots to gather and share the morning sun. Ravenpaw watched them with a nervous energy that started to put Firepaw a bit on edge.

"Do you, uh, know any special hunting techniques? I've been practicing stalking, but I'm not totally sure I'm doing it right," Firepaw tried again. Ravenpaw just kept kicking the rabbit back and forth, and staring into the middle distance.

Firepaw scuffed at the ground and sighed in resignation. He hadn't really seen Ravenpaw since he had passed out on the High Rock earlier, so he had been excited to finally talk to him. The two of them were denmates now, and would be training together, so he hoped that he would be able to make friends. But it made sense if Ravenpaw was still a little shaken and distracted. Firepaw probably wouldn't want to talk either if someone he knew had just died. He wondered if Ravenpaw saw it happen. He wondered what it was like to be in the battle, fighting skilled warriors from another Clan. Clearly ThunderClan's enemies were fierce. A normal cat would have turned tail the moment Tigerclaw came back into camp carrying a body. Why didn't he?

"…Who's your mentor?" Ravenpaw meowed, almost absently.

"Oh! Um," Firepaw fumbled to reply. The other apprentice still wasn't looking at him, so he wasn't quite sure that he was being addressed. "I don't know if I have one, actually. I remember Dustpaw got a new one yesterday. Am I supposed to have one?"

With that unexpected answer Ravenpaw's focus finally shifted, and he whipped around to stare. "What? Of course you have a mentor," he said. A hot flush spread Firepaw's pelt and he began to panic slightly. "All apprentices have a mentor," Ravenpaw continued, "Bluestar must have had one in mind, even if she didn't announce it. Are you sure you didn't just miss her saying…?"

Lionheart began to pad towards them purposefully from across the clearing, causing Ravenpaw to fall silent. Despite the misgivings his short conversation had raised, his eagerness to embark on his first full day in the Clan quickly displaced his unease. "You will all be training with me today," Lionheart told Firepaw as he reached them. Firepaw couldn't help bouncing a little in place. "See to it that Greypaw is awake," Lionheart ordered.

Firepaw dashed inside the apprentice den to shake the late sleeper. Greypaw shooed him off, stretching unhurriedly as Firepaw stood beside him and goaded him to move faster. Their scuffling woke Sandpaw, who had returned from the vigil with her brother at sunrise, and her angry hissing finally was enough to chase Greypaw out. After he had gulped down a quick breakfast, the apprentices headed over to meet with their mentor, who was accompanied by Tigerclaw.

Ravenpaw had been oddly jumpy on the whole walk, but when he saw the second warrior he shrank back, then turned tail and fled. Tigerclaw's brows knit in confusion. The big cat moved to give chase, but Lionheart stopped him with his paw. "He endured his first battle yesterday," he advised, "You know Ravenpaw has always been timid. Give him some time to process what happened."

"But he ran when he saw _me_ ," Tigerclaw growled.

"You were at the battle too, and in charge of his training. He's probably worried about how you'll evaluate his performance," Lionheart reasoned.

Tigerclaw snorted disdainfully. "That _kit_ is a coward. He fell back long before I ordered a retreat."

"Thus proves my point," Lionheart said. Surprise overcame Tigerclaw and he laughed darkly in agreement, but something in his eyes still seemed uncertain. He shook his broad head to refocus before settling his gaze on Firepaw.

"Today we are going to show you the territory, so that you know where you are allowed to go, and where you are not," Tigerclaw said, "I trust that you will not make straying into enemy territory a habit just because it worked out for you one time."

Lionheart gave Tigerclaw a sidelong look. "He will learn our customs, I am sure," he meowed. Then, looking directly into Firepaw's eyes he said, "Or he will leave."

The challenge issued, Firepaw straightened his spine and held his gaze steady. "I won't disappoint you," he promised. Lionheart seemed pleased by this response, and dipped his head in acknowledgement before turning to start jogging.

"Come on, then," he beckoned, Tigerclaw falling in step beside him. Greypaw gave Firepaw an impressed look before bounding after his mentor, and Firepaw raced to keep up.

They left through a gorse tunnel on the other side of camp, to pass through a sandy hollow. Lionheart told him it was the training area for apprentices, and that he would be expected to report there first thing in the morning unless instructed otherwise. They continued on into the forest. This area was densely wooded, with massive oaks and hickories towering over intermittent ashes, birches, and cherry trees. The leaf litter was still damp from its recent emergence beneath the frosts.

Firepaw was so absorbed in his surroundings that he nearly ran into the older cats when they slowed down in front of him. Lionheart motioned patiently at the ground a couple tail-lengths in front of him. "That's a Two-leg path. They sometimes like to walk their dogs along here. Can either of you smell anything?"

Firepaw tasted the air. He did smell both Two-leg and dog, but the pungent odors of leaves and dirt and wild animals were overwhelming him, and he couldn't tell how recent they might be.

Greypaw meowed, "A Two-leg walked his dog here, but it was earlier in the day, when the sun wasn't as high in the sky. He crossed back over this path already, so we shouldn't see them."

"Very good, Greypaw," Lionheart praised. They passed over the sharp stones lining the path to the other side of the forest.

The composition of trees was very different across the path. Pines stood in unnaturally neat rows, clustered in groups of the same height. The forest floor was completely bare of undergrowth, and littered with layers of needles that formed a spongy bed. The Clan cats seemed uneasy here, and so Firepaw felt himself start to get a little unnerved.

"The Two-legs put the trees here. Once they grow big enough, they use foul smelling-creatures to cut them down, and then take them to the Treecut place that lies near here," Tigerclaw explained.

"Will we see them?" Firepaw asked.

"No, not for a few more moons," Tigerclaw answered.

Lionheart gestured with his tail. "The Two-leg place you came from is that direction. But today we'll be going the other way."

Eventually they came to another Two-leg path and crossed back into natural forest. But, to Firepaw's confusion, the anxiety in the Clan cats did not diminish. "We're approaching RiverClan territory," Greypaw whispered, "Sunningrocks is over there."

Firepaw gazed at a treeless mass of boulders. "Is that where the attack was yesterday?" he asked, unconsciously matching his volume to Greypaw's.

"Yes," Tigerclaw answered quietly, anger hot in his amber gaze. Firepaw felt the fur along his spine raise. This was a place where cats had died.

Lionheart stopped by a flat grey rock. He too kept his voice low and measured. "This the the RiverClan boundary. Breathe deeply, and memorize the scent."

Firepaw obeyed, and the scent of unfamiliar cats washed over his senses. There was a different quality to the smell than the scent ThunderClan cats carried, it was less like wood and sap and more like fish and mud.

"Yes, remember that scent well. It is strongest here at the boundary, as their warriors have scent-marked the trees around here." With that, Tigerclaw lifted his tail and sprayed his own scent to overlay it.

"We'll follow this boundary line, as it leads to the Fourtrees," Lionheart meowed.

Firepaw wanted to ask what the Fourtrees was, but felt uncomfortable speaking when the other cats were being so careful around the border. He followed dutifully, trying to move as silently as possible, but grew increasingly sheepish as he knew he was making twice the amount of noise as the other cats. They crossed a shallow stream, keeping their paws dry by jumping from the larger rocks across the pebbly riverbed.

By the time they reached the Fourtrees, Firepaw felt utterly exhausted. His breath was coming in shallow gasps and his paws were aching so much they were nearly numb. He nearly fell over from relief when Lionheart and Tigerclaw stopped at the brow of a bush-covered slope. Down below, in the dazzling light of the midday sun, stood the tallest oaks in the forest, their budding crowns reaching almost to the top of the steep slope. Beneath them was a large boulder.

"This is the Fourtrees, where all of the Clans gather to meet at every full moon," Lionheart explained, "WindClan lives in the territory beyond. You won't be able to catch their scent today, since the wind is blowing toward them. But you'll learn it soon enough."

"We'll patrol the ShadowClan border on the way back," Tigerclaw added.

Greypaw looked around him conspiratorially, murmuring to Firepaw, "The elders say the cold winds from the north blow over ShadowClan cats and chill their hearts." Lionheart cuffed him over the ear for sharing the superstition, but didn't say anything to the contrary.

Firepaw frowned. "Why are there so many Clans?" he asked, "Wouldn't it be easier if you all shared territory and prey?"

Tigerclaw growled deep in his throat. "That is traitorous talk, kittypet."

"It is our Clan loyalty that makes us strong," Lionheart interjected, "The Gatherings are important because they allow the Clans to come together in peace for one night. But you must understand that longer alliances bring more trouble than they're worth."

Firepaw nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure he understood.

They kept moving, this time away from the sun as it sank in the afternoon sky. The cats grew quiet again as they followed close to the border. New cat scents filled Firepaw's nose, these ones smelling of swamp and moss. Then, he heard a deep and ominous rumbling. He glanced uncertainly at the other cats, but they did not slow down.

"What's that?" he asked. The trees ahead were growing thinner, letting in a broad band of sunlight. A dark, acrid stink came over him, and he had to stop and scrunch up his nose. The rumbling was getting louder, a ceaseless roar that made the ground tremble and ached in Firepaw's ears.

"This is the Thunderpath," meowed Tigerclaw, who seemed smugly satisfied with his distress. In front of them stretched a grey path like a river, cutting its way through the forest. The hard gray stone stretched ahead of him so far that the trees on the other side seemed blurred and tiny.

Firepaw leaped back, fur bristling, when a gigantic monster roared past. The branches of the trees flapped in the wind that chased the speeding monster. He had seen paths like this before near his old Two-leg home, but never this wide, and never with monsters so swift and fierce.

"Scary, aren't they? But it keeps the ShadowClan cats on their side of the border. And the monsters don't stray from the path, so you'll be fine as long as you don't go too close," Greypaw said reassuringly.

Firepaw nodded, his heart still thundering madly in his chest.

"It's time we returned to camp," Lionheart said, "You have seen all our boundaries now, but we'll avoid Snakerocks, even though the way around is longer. An untrained apprentice would be easy prey for an adder, and I expect you're getting tired, Firepaw."

Firepaw couldn't help feeling relieved. He was quite tired, and hungry, and just a bit overwhelmed by all that he had seen today. He fell in behind Greypaw as the cats turned away from the Thunderpath and headed back into the heart of the forest.

It was well into the evening when they returned through the gorse tunnel into ThunderClan camp. Fresh-kill was waiting for them. Firepaw and Greypaw took their share from the pile and brought it to the tree stump outside their den. Dustpaw and Sandpaw were already there, working on their own dinners.

Sandpaw stiffened when Firepaw approached, leaning to her side so that she was facing away from him. "It's the kittypet," she murmured lowly.

Dustpaw sneered openly at him. "Enjoy the food that _we_ caught for you," he said.

"Are you two still on hunting duty?" Greypaw asked innocently. "We've been patrolling all day. You'll be glad to know all is safe."

Dustpaw snorted, "I'm sure the other Clans were terrified when they smelled you two coming."

"They didn't dare show their faces!" Greypaw retorted, unable to hide his anger.

Sandpaw flicked her tail, twisting her neck around so she could look at Greypaw. "We can ask them tonight. We're going to the Gathering," she boasted.

"You are?" Firepaw asked. "Wait. I thought everyone went."

Sandpaw turned back around, pretending as though he hadn't spoken. Dustpaw laughed at his ignorance. "No, mouse-brain. Only a few apprentices and warriors are chosen to go the Gathering. It's a great honor you know."

Firepaw couldn't help feeling a twinge of envy. These apprentices were actually going to meet the other clans tonight! But he was also glad that he wouldn't have to make the trip out there again. It had been a long walk.

A loud call from Bluestar made Firepaw look up. He watched several of the Clan warriors and elders gather in the clearing. It was time for the Clan party to leave for the Gathering. Dustpaw and Sandpaw leaped to their feet, and trotted off to join the other cats.

"Bye Greypaw!" called Sandpaw over her shoulder, "Have a nice, _quiet_ night!"

The assembled cats stalked out of the camp entrance in single file, with Bluestar at the head. Her fur glowed like silver in the moonlight, and she looked calm and confident as she led her Clan to the brief truce between old enemies.

Firepaw stared disconcertedly after Sandpaw. "She's acting like I don't exist," he complained.

Greypaw frowned, kicking the dirt in front of him. "They'll come around to you being here. Sandpaw just thinks she's better than everyone and everything, that's all."

"So does Dustpaw, I take it," Firepaw noted. Greypaw yowled with laughter.

"Heh heh. Yeah, he does," Greypaw agreed, his whiskers twitching.

They spent the rest of their meal talking about their day and the things they had seen. When they had finished, Greypaw wandered over to Firepaw and began to groom his head. Together they washed, sharing tongues as Firepaw had seen the other cats do when he first arrived. Then, tired after the long trek, they pushed their way into their den. They settled down in their nests and quickly fell asleep.

The following morning, Greypaw and Firepaw arrived early at the sandy hollow, creeping out before Sandpaw and Dustpaw had woke. It promised to be a warm day. The leaves on the ground proved too enticing for Greypaw to resist, and he scooped them into the air and leaped after them. Firepaw joined in, batting and chasing with abandon. Ravenpaw showed but did not participate, choosing instead to sit like a sullen, dark shadow in the corner of the training arena. As he curled his tail around his paws, Greypaw stopped playing.

"Aw, Ravenpaw, cheer up! I know you don't like training, but you can still have fun before our mentors get here!" he meowed.

Ravenpaw looked down at his tail. "I… I just don't want to hurt my shoulder again."

"Your shoulder?" Firepaw asked. He looked closer, and sure enough there was a crusted line parting the fur there.

Tigerclaw emerged from the bushes, growling "A warrior should suffer his pain in silence." As Lionheart followed closely behind him, Tigerclaw added, "You need to learn to hold your tongue." His gaze burned into Ravenpaw's and the apprentice shrank backwards into his fur.

"Someone's grumpy," Greypaw muttered under his breath.

The exchange had seemed to concern Lionheart as well, but he let it pass by. "Today we are going to practice stalking. Now, there is a big difference between creeping up on a rabbit and creeping up on a mouse. Can any of you tell me why?" he asked.

Firepaw had no idea. Ravenpaw seemed to have completely lost his ability to speak. Seeing this, it was Greypaw who answered. "Because a rabbit will smell you before he sees you, but a mouse will feel your paw steps through the ground before he even smells you," he recited.

"Exactly, Greypaw!" Lionheart said proudly, "So what must you bear in mind when hunting mice?"

"…Step lightly?" Firepaw suggested.

Lionheart looked approvingly at him. "Quite right, Firepaw. You must take all your weight into your haunches, so that your paws make no impact on the forest floor. Let's try it!"

Firepaw watched as Greypaw and Ravenpaw immediately dropped into a stalking crouch.

"Nicely done, Greypaw!" Lionheart commended as the two apprentices began to move forward stealthily.

"Keep your rear down, Ravenpaw, you look like a duck!" Tigerclaw snapped. He whirled on Firepaw. "Let's see you do it."

Firepaw glanced at Greypaw who winced at him in sympathy, then crouched down and began to creep along the forest floor. He felt himself fall instinctively into the right position, and as he stepped forward, as silently and lightly as he could, he felt a glow of pride that his muscles responded so smoothly.

"Well it's obvious you've known nothing but softness!" spat Tigerclaw. "You stalk like a lumbering kitty pet! Do you think dinner is going to come and lie down in your food dish and wait to be eaten?"

Firepaw sat up quickly as Tigerclaw spoke, taken aback by his harsh words. He listened carefully to the warrior, determined to get everything right.

"His pace and forward movement will come later, but his crouch is perfectly balanced," Lionheart pointed out.

"Hmph. Better than Ravenpaw I suppose," complained Tigerclaw. He cast a scornful look at his apprentice. "Even after two moons of training, you're still putting all your weight on your left side."

Ravenpaw looked even more dejected, and Firepaw couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "His injury is bothering him, that's all!"

Tigerclaw whipped his head around and glared at Firepaw. "Injuries are a fact of life. He should be able to adapt. Even, you, Firepaw, have learned something this morning. If Ravenpaw picked up things as quickly as you, he'd be a credit to me instead of an embarrassment. Imagine, being shown up by a _kittypet_!" he spat angrily.

Firepaw felt his fur prickle with discomfort and anger. He couldn't meet Ravenpaw's eyes, so he looked down at his paws.

Dark disapproval flashed in Lionheart's eyes. He seemed ready to say something, but Greypaw cut across him, meowing, "Well, _I'm_ more lopsided than a one-legged badger." He broke off his careful stalking to stagger comically across the clearing. "I think I'll have to settle for hunting stupid mice. The won't stand a chance. I shall just wander up to them and sit on them until they surrender."

Ravenpaw almost laughed, looking down at his paws to hide his amusement from his mentor.

Lionheart raised his chin. "Perhaps you all might fare better if you were to try out stalking for real," he proposed.

All three apprentices looked up brightly.

"I want each one of you to try catching real prey. Ravenpaw, you look beside the Owltree. Greypaw, there might be something in that big bramble patch over ther. And you, Firepaw, follow the rabbit track over that rise; you'll find the dry bed of a winter stream."

The three apprentices bounded away, even Ravenpaw finding some extra energy for this challenge.

With the blood pounding in his ears, Firepaw crept slowly up over the rise. Sure enough, a streamed cut through the trees ahead of him. In leaf-fall, he guess it would carry the rainwater away from the forest and into the great river that cut through RiverClan territory. Now it was dry.

Firepaw crept quietly down the bank and crouched on its sandy floor. Every sense felt on fire with tension. Silently he scanned the empty stream for signs of life. He watched for any tiny movement, his mouth open so he could pick up the smallest scent, his ears twisted and straining forward.

Then he smelled mouse. He recognized the odor instantly, remembering the one he had first followed into the forest. Wild energy surged through him as he thought of finally catching one, but he remained motionless, trying desperately to pinpoint the prey.

He picked up the rapid pulsing of the tiny mouse heart, and then a flash of brown caught his eye. The creature was scrambling through the long grass the draped the edges of the stream. Firepaw shifted closer, keeping his weight on his haunches until he was within striking distance. Then he pushed back hard on his hind paws and sprang, kicking up sand as he rose.

The mouse raced away, but Firepaw was quicker. He scooped into the air with one paw, there it onto the sandy streambed, and lunged on top of it. He killed it quickly with one sharp bite, its hot blood gushing into his mouth in exactly the way he had imagined it would.

Firepaw exalted, carefully lifting the body between his teeth and returning with his tail held high to the hollow where Tigerclaw and Lionheart waited. He had made his first kill. He was a true ThunderClan apprentice now.


End file.
